


When love is not madness, it is not love.

by Istra_Faemore



Series: The Devil's Helping [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1443718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Istra_Faemore/pseuds/Istra_Faemore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't every day that the Devil wanted to court someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When love is not madness, it is not love.

"No way. No fucking _way_."

"Dean--"

"-- No Cas. No way. Not happening. It's my job to _protect_ Sammy."

"And it's Sam's decision to make," Castiel shouted at Dean, the light bulb flickering until his visibly calmed himself. He got up and began to pace agitated. "He also wants... I..."

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, pulled him down onto his lap and nuzzled him. The angel put a brief struggle that lacked any sort of real resistance. Dean laughed and just breathed into Cas' hair. "What does he want with you, Cas?"

"He wants me back, I think," Cas replied, snuggling into Dean. 

Sam frowned. "Want you back, how?"

"In heaven, Gabriel, Lucifer and I were close. Then they left me and I had no one."

"You have us now, dude. And I'm not letting him go anywhere near either of you," Dean growled.

Cas chuckled. "And it is my decision as much as Sam's." He leant up and pressed a sweet kiss to Dean's lips. "I do not know what to do. Sam, have you thought about it?"

"It's so strange. I mean, I like that he doesn't wanna wear me like a new suit. But he wants to court me?" Sam shrugged. "Court me. It's so 1950s. He wants to seduce me. Why?"

"I believe you made an impression on him in those two weeks. I'm not sure. It's strange, and not like Lucifer. He is acting out of sorts. Or was. I don't know."

Dean laughed, a brief bark of laughter. "He confused you pretty good, didn't he?"

"Yes!" Cas snapped, exasperated.

"I guess it boils down to this, Cas: do you want your brother back?"

"I miss him. He was always very loving to me."

"I see. Sammy?"

"We kind of owe him, Dean. It just seems right to give him a chance," Sam said reluctantly.

"I will get the same restrictions from him with regards to not taking you as a vessel whatever you say," Cas offered. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The room was clean and smelled of fresh, clean linens. The kind of smell that air fresheners gave off. But, as Sam looked around, the room had the clean vibe to it. No worn out, old beds or carpets. Everything was well loved and it made Sam feel welcome. 

When he saw who was tentatively standing in the corner, he realised that it was a dream. 

He tensed. 

Then relaxed. 

Then tensed again.

After all, it wasn't every day that the Devil wanted to court someone.

"Hello Sam," Lucifer said. He made no sudden moves, but slowly walked across the floor toward him, stopping a safe distance apart. Sam felt a light tug on his heart; he realised he expected him to hug him or something. And was disappointed when he didn't.

"Lucifer," he replied, equally as soft. "What..." A breath; "How do you want to proceed. I mean, Cas said that you told him we talked in detail during _those_ two weeks. But I don't remember anything."

"We could get to know each other again," Lucifer offered, a hopeful glint in his eye.

"But you already know about me. Won't you get bored hearing the same thing twice?"

But Lucifer was already shaking his head. "I don't think you could bore me, Sam. And that's me speaking honestly," he added at the sceptical look on Sam's face. "If you want, I could pretend - for the purpose of our meetings - that the those two weeks hadn't happened."

Sam shrugged; he was a little uncomfortable with the fact he didn't remember having sex with Lucifer but at the same time -- "You did it to save my life. I may not remember, but I _am_ grateful. Perhaps," he started slowly, raising his eyes to meet Lucifer's, "you could tell me what happened during that time?"

"Do you want detail?" Lucifer deadpanned, in an utterly Castiel way before a sly smirk crept over his face.

Sam blushed hotly. "I'm pretty sure I don't."

"Oh, but Sam, you were _amazing_. So responsive. So pretty. You begged and pleaded beautifully," Lucifer pouted.

"Lucifer," Sam warned. "Cas told me how much you like to tease. Said you were like a watered down Gabriel. Behave or I'll wake up."

A longer suffering sigh met that. "Castiel needs to lighten up and have fun. Though I suppose your brother is helping with that. He's not doing a terribly good job is he?" Lucifer's tone was conspiratorial. 

"I am also _not_ discussing our brothers' sex life. Ever. I spend enough time repressing and convincing myself that it doesn't happen and I'd like to keep it that way." 

Sam finally moved to sit on the bed - the only place to sit in the room Lucifer designed for them - moving to the top of the bed so Lucifer could sit opposite him. Which he did. Sam stared at him for a moment, wracking his brain to think of a safe topic. Yes, he wanted to know about his missing weeks, but at the same time, he didn't think he could take Lucifer's blatant teasing laced with sexual innuendo.

"I don't want to give you the wrong impression, Lucifer, but I can choose _not_ to be with you at the end of the courtship."

"Of course, Sam," Lucifer replied smoothly. "After all, only I remember the chemistry that was between us. But before we proceed any further. Do you have any... physical... restrictions. I, of course, will allow you to touch me freely." And a raise of the eyebrow that invited that free touching. 

Sam blushed.

The Devil laughed.

Sam glared.

"I'm not gonna fuck you," Sam told him bluntly, ignoring his pouting look again. 

"But," Lucifer whispered, leaning towards Sam, faces very close. "Can I touch you?" A hand stroked Sam's cheek. "Can I kiss you?" Lips brushing his ever so briefly. Sam sighed into the kiss and made another soft noise when Lucifer pulled away. "Hmm. I take that as a yes?" 

"What game are you playing?" Sam asked, voice fluctuating between hard and trembling. "Why've you asked for this?" And unsaid: _why am I so special?_

The hand on his cheek returned. It was warm and smooth. Nick, obviously, was a man who didn't work with his hands. It bore no marks of the degradation that had started to affect the host's body. Come to think of it, Sam didn't see _any_ wounds on Nick. He closely scrutinised Lucifer's face, unconsciously reaching to turn his face to one side, then the other. 

"Huhhn..." he muttered.

"Sam?" Lucifer patiently asked. He didn't mind the touching, but the intensity that Sam was looking at with was sort of disturbing. It made him think that Sam was still trying to find ways to kill him. 

Or that he was considering stabbing him. And stabbing _hurt_.

"Where... I thought... last time I saw you, you had like... radiation wounds or something all over your face." And his hand stroked that smooth face. Lucifer, of course, resisted the urge to lean into the touch; mustn't frighten his hunter yet.

"It's not Nick. He couldn't contain me any longer. I... the best way to describe it is _remembered_ how to create my own body with my Grace. This is all me. Nick's form, but all me. I found Nick to be quite... pleasing to the eye."

Sam snorted, recalling the all the information he'd read that said Lucifer was the most beautiful of angels. Which made him wonder why he ever wanted to wear Sam. 

"Don't ever think that, Sam!" Lucifer exclaimed, moving swiftly up the bed to grasp Sam's face between cupped hands. "You are very beautiful. You mustn't think negatively about yourself. No matter what that pompous prick Zachariah told you." Then Lucifer looked horrified, as though he'd broken some unwritten rule. It wasn't like he'd promised not to speak of those two weeks to Sam.

Sam blinked and said slowly, "I told you about him?"

"Yes. And believe me. He's on my List." 

And yes; yes Sam could hear the capital letter in that word. He was afraid to ask, but he _was_ a Winchester, and doing stupid things came with the territory. "List?"

"Of people I'm going to have... intense... conversations with. Where intense means it will probably result in their deaths." Lucifer told him as though it was the most natural thing in the world to be talking about killing people. _Welcome to your life, Sam Winchester._

"I... I honestly won't protest Zachariah's death." And if he was being truthful, he really wouldn't. But-- "You mustn't kill people because they hurt me. Otherwise the world's gonna be a pretty empty place." Yeah, that joke turned flat. He cleared his throat and reluctantly removed his face from Lucifer's hands.

"Why don't I mind you touching me?" Sam whispered, reaching up to stroke his own cheeks. "It's like my body remembers your touch."

Lucifer leaned forward and brushed his lips again. "I never answered your question about what game I'm playing. The answer: none. I spent two weeks having sex with you and talking and just being _near_ you. It changed my perspective on what I want. And I certainly don't want to use you as a meat suit anymore. Instead... I merely..." he looked at Sam and tilted his head. "I merely want you."

He kissed Sam harder this time, and Sam gasped into the kiss and opened his lips, responding to the Devil's embrace. Lucifer tasted of ice and lightning and storms. He was wild and unrestrained, pouring every inch of his need and desire into the kiss. Sam's hands came up to stroke along Lucifer's back, gripping and kneading and pulling him closer. Lucifer's own hands were in Sam's hair, tugging and gripping. 

Sam broke the kiss, gasping for air, his eyes dark with lust. "I'm still not fucking you." His voice was low, tinged with need. 

"Not yet," Lucifer agreed. "But there are plenty of other things we could do first." His hand crept down to Sam's chest and caressed him through his shirt. 

"Like talk," Sam told him pointedly, moving away from the caress and shivering. "And get to know each other. You might know me, but I don't know you. Despite how nice your kisses are."

~~~~~~~~~~

There was a hunt. A particularly nasty hunt. Sam groaned as he was dumped on his bed. He could hear voices murmuring but he was so out of it from blood loss that he couldn't tell. He was pretty sure that it was Dean and Cas.

"Shit. Sam? Sammy! Stay with me, Sam. Stay awake. Shit, Cas! Hurry up!" And he screamed when something pressed against his leg and wrapped round it. "I need that thread." 

"I do not think your usual healing methods are going to work this time," Castiel told him, looking at the blood seeping through the bandages.

"Yeah well, we gotta try. We're too far from a hospital and you can't--" Dean broke off that comment before he could say something that could hurt his angel. 

"--Can't heal. It is all right, Dean. He needs to be healed..." He looked at Dean in one of _those_ ways. And Dean sighed. Because yeah. Yeah he knew what Cas was going to do and it needed to be done.

"Cas, can you keep the others from knowing where you are if you call him?"

Cas just _smirked_ and got his phone out of his pocket. He dialled a number and waited a moment. "Lucifer. Riverside Motel room 6." And then hung up. He was still smirking at Dean's expression when Lucifer arrived without the tell-tale clap of thunder. 

He took one look at the bed before shooing Dean away. He stroked Sam's hair and kissed his forehead. "I seem to be saving you a lot recently." His other hand reached towards Sam's leg and with a single touch, restored him. Lucifer stroked up Sam's leg in a comforting gesture. "He will sleep for a little while. But we should go. MY brothers would have sensed my using my Grace. Castiel, put Sam in the car. Dean, load your belongings. When we're all in, I'll transport us somewhere _else_." With one last lingering look at Sam, he stepped back to allow his little brother to pick up the man he loved.

...loved.

Hnnn. He did love the boy. 

It was strange; like he'd woken from a dream and when he looked at Sam Winchester, his heart constricted. He loved him. He _loved_ him.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump and he turned to face a rather smug looking Castiel. 

"I told you that you were not incapable of love, brother."


End file.
